


i'd sunk in ocean's blue, now they're all frozen over

by BeAVixen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Created Supernatural Creatures, F/M, Hale fire, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5852977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeAVixen/pseuds/BeAVixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of all the things Taylor ever went through in her life, this could be one of the weirdest, unusual events she’s ever been through.<br/>She’s pretty sure her reflexes are loose, and she can’t catch anything even if she tried her hardest (all the bruises from the basketball were enough proof), so she didn’t understand how she possibly pulled this off.<br/>She doesn’t, because a pen cap came flying straight for her face and she caught it with so much grace that she didn’t even believe it was possible.</p><p>**</p><p>Or, Taylor Frisinger is a new student in BHHS, analyzed by the McCall Pack to be a supernatural creature--but not exactly the supernatural they're used to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. pen caps to the face

**Author's Note:**

> New story, what's up!
> 
> I haven't had the motivation to write much these months, but my IBF daydreamed this and it just happened that I came up with more ideas, so it was too good not to pass up!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy! I have no idea how long this story will be. I guess I'll write until I feel I don't need to add any more! 
> 
> Not beta'd, any mistakes are mine! Let me know if they're really bad!  
> Reviews, Kudos and Comments are appreciated!

“Mom, I think I’m sick. Can I skip today?”

“That’s impossible.”

“It is very possible, mom!”

“It is not. I know it is not. Go to school.”

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

Out of all the things Taylor ever went through in her life, this could be one of the weirdest, unusual events she’s ever been through.

She’s pretty sure her reflexes are loose, and she can’t catch anything even if she tried her hardest (all the bruises from the basketball were enough proof), so she didn’t understand how she possibly pulled this off.

She doesn’t, because a pen cap came flying straight for her face and she caught it with so much grace that she didn’t even believe it was possible.

She had been sitting in class peacefully; she wasn’t exactly listening to the teacher, instead she was picking at the purple nail polish that remained on her forefinger and thumb. The hard seat of the classroom hurt her back as she shifted, wanting the class to end so she could just _go home._ Her light blonde hair was brushing against her hooded black sweater, the cold air pinching the skin exposed by the rips on her jeans. Her head was constantly hanging on the desk from tiredness; she had such a small interest in Chemistry, so she sat quietly, not bothering anyone but not paying attention either.

That’s when the movement of a pen caught her attention, and when she looked to her right, she noticed a boy— _Stilinski_ , she remembered—swinging his pencil in his left hand. The edge of the pen was moving in swift circles, looking like it was going to hit him in the eye every two seconds. He seemed like someone who was constantly on edge; his leg was bouncing up and down, and he was watching at his work, concentrated. Taylor didn’t realize she was staring until she saw the cap of the pen fly off the end, coming straight from her face.

She felt like it was all in slow motion. She could see the it coming straight for her, _too fast_ for her, but yet for some reason, it felt like she had all the time in the world to catch it. She only realized that she had caught it after Stilinski was staring straight at her, mouth open in a gasp.

“ _How_ did y—”

“Stilinski!”

Groaning, he rolled his eyes, turning to face the teacher—Mr. Harris, the douchiest teacher in history of teachers—who was basically shooting daggers at him with his eyes.

“I don’t remember asking you to speak, so unless you have something that has to do with _Chemistry_ to share, I don’t think it’s necessary for you to open your mouth.”

Stilinski threw his hands up, ready to retort, when Taylor decided to take matters in her own hands. She had never talked to this boy, but she knew that he was constantly being yelled at in this class and she didn’t think he deserved it this time, especially when it was her that had completely distracted him.

“Mr. Harris, don’t worry about it. I distracted him, he didn’t do anything wrong.”

Smiling, Mr. Harris cocked his head to the side. “Well, since you two hooligans think you can fool around, I guess you’re okay with fooling around after school as well. Detention, both of you.”

Taylor rolled her eyes. _What a great way to start the day._

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

Taylor was never known as the child that misbehaved. Since she was a child, she always listened in school. She had a row of straight As, was always a teacher’s favorite, and was involved with school activities.

At least, that’s how it always was, until she moved to California; she wasn’t prepared to leave her friends back in Colorado, but she wasn’t given much choice.

Soon enough, she found herself in the city of Beacon Hills; it was small, and it wasn’t well known. It seemed like everyone knew everyone and it was such a small community. Taylor only felt like she was butting in on a family reunion. So when she got to school, she slacked. She stopped working, she stopped volunteering. She just wanted to get the minimal grade that at least let her pass her class.

That’s why she decided not to get annoyed by the fact that she was given a detention, and walked into the library. The only other person in there was Stilinski and Mr. Harris.

“You will be rearranging the books on the carts,” he stated, waving towards all the carts overflowing with books. “You’ll put them back where they should be, and after the library is nice and tidy, then you are free to go. Until then, you’ll be stuck here. I’ll keep you here until tomorrow morning if I have to. I’ll be in my classroom. No one bothers me, and if any of you leave you’ll have detention for the rest of the year.”

As Mr. Harris stepped out, closing the door behind him, Stilinski rolled his eyes, tapping a rhythmic pattern his fingers against the wooden table he was sitting on. “Harris is a dick,” he muttered.

Taylor shrugged, standing up to start pushing one of the old, chipped beige carts towards the Science Fiction section. The bookshelves were worn from their original colour; they all looked blunt and unappealing. Dust covered most of the books up on the shelves, and the shelf itself was covered with dust bunnies. Reluctantly, Stilinski followed behind her.

“So, I’m uh—”

“Stilinski. I know who you are,” Taylor mumbled, placing books up on the shelf.

“Oh, actually it’s Stiles… actually my name is Polish but it’s hard to say and I don’t want to put you through that torture, so how about you just go with Stiles. You’re Taylor, right? You got here about a month ago?”

“Okay, and yes.” Taylor nodded, continuing to put books up silently.

“So, uh… you’re not a very social person, are you?” Stiles asked, putting books up with her.

“I used to be.”

“I can’t tell,” Stiles smirked, jokingly. Taylor only deadpanned him with the biggest resting bitch face she could muster. His smirked dropped, and he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

“Sorry, uh… so, I see that you have pretty good reflexes… and I seriously need help with lacrosse, I’m tired of being a benchwarmer. Honestly, you wouldn’t understand the struggle, but it’s ridiculous. Coach makes us do all the hard workouts even though we won’t actually be on the field. You have no idea how much life it drains out of me, seriously. Think you could help me out?” Stiles asked.

“I don’t have good reflexes.”

Stiles raised a thin eyebrow, unconvinced. “You’re going to tell me that today, in class, that was nothing? Come on. That was insane! No one can catch anything that fast. I sure as hell can’t.”

“I guess we’re not all gifted,” Taylor shrugged, going to the other side of the shelf to continue stacking the books. Suddenly, two books were pushed aside and Stiles face was staring right back at her.

“But you are! Dude, listen, you don’t have to teach me. Just tell me your secret, how do you do it? In Jackson’s words, where do you get ‘your juice’?”

Taylor had no idea what Stiles was talking about, nor did she really want to. There was no” juice”, and there was no trick. “I don’t, Stiles. My reflexes are shit and I can’t teach you anything,” Taylor retorted, placing a book on the shelf to cover his face. She pushed the cart to the opposite side of the library, a weird feeling in her gut. She knew something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong with her and she needed to figure it out.

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

Stiles burst into Scott’s room later that night, throwing his bag on the ground. Scott had barely turned around when Stiles was letting words come out of his mouth.

“There’s another werewolf in BHHS.”

Scott frowned, closing his laptop before facing him. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’,” Stiles rambled, jumping on the bed. “There’s another one, I’m sure of it. Do you remember when you first became a werewolf? You could hear things that were way out of your reach. Things that are barely audible to the human ear, she can hear, and she has reflexes like crazy, Scott, I swear to you, she’s a werewolf.”

“Who exactly are we talking about?” Scott asked. Stiles looked away, scratching the back of his neck.

“You know, that one girl I told you about? With the blonde hair and the—”

“Oh, Taylor Frisinger,” Scott smirked knowingly. Stiles rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“Scott, I swear to God—”

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that because you want your crush to be a badass werew—”

“Hey,” Stiles snapped. “We’ve been over this: she’s not my crush. I just, find her very very attractive and she has really flawless hair, and maybe her voice is like the angels above and does that matter? Not really! What matters is that she could potentially be a werewolf.”

“Stiles,” Scott sighed. “If she were, I’d be able to smell it on her. All she smells like is that new Ariana Grande perfume and strawberry shampoo. I don’t smell anything else on her.”

“You mean you don’t smell wet dog on her,” Stiles grumbled. Scott glared at him, flicking his pencil at his face. Stiles went to catch it, and barely managed to touch it before it hit him right in the eye.

“Great, Scott, fling a pencil at my eye, awesome, you’re the best friend ever, honestly, true MVP…”


	2. you can sit with us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-betaed, all mistakes are mine! Please let me know if they're bad!

“Mom, is there some sort of weird reflex enhancement that teenagers get when they grow up?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Okay.”

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

Taylor thought that detention had been the one and only time that she would ever have any form of interaction with Stiles Stilinski. Yet somehow, all the gods above her didn’t agree because the minute she had stepped into the cafeteria the next day, she was shocked when one of his friends, the flawless _Lydia Martin_ , was walking straight towards her.

“Hey! Taylor, right?” she asked, pointing a finger at her, eyes narrow. Her plump lips were formed into a small smile. Taylor only felt jealousy when she looked at Lydia; she had the perfect group of friends, and she seemed healthy as ever: her strawberry blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, curled slightly, her cute yellow flower dress hugging her curves perfectly, with her tanned legs and killer heels.

“Yeah,” Taylor mumbled, looking down at her own attire. She was wearing a large sweater with a faded Fall Out Boy logo, some ripped jeans, and a black pair of Vans. Her hair was thrown up into a messy bun. Why was Lydia speaking to her?

“Awesome! I’ve heard quite a bit about you. I’ve noticed you don’t seem to have many people to talk to, how about you come sit with me and my friends today?” Lydia suggested. Taylor looked at her blankly.

“Seriously,” she asked, blunt.

“Yes, seriously,” Lydia groaned, grabbing her hand and her tray and dragging her towards her table. “Gosh, you remind me so much of Derek; asking questions with no punctuation.”

“Who’s Derek?” Taylor asked. Lydia ignored her, and stopped in front of her table. There were a few people there; Boyd, Erica and Isaac, one of the groups that seem to continuously walk around with leather jackets, Jackson and Danny, who seemed to be so in love with each other it was almost disgusting, Allison and Scott, one of the “It” couples of the school, if you could consider them popular, and Kira Yukimura and Stiles Stilinski. Kira was the nicest person she had ever talked to; she had to work on a project with her and she had been so nice.

Immediately, Stiles looked up and smiled at her, scooting over to make space for her. Lydia went to sit next to Kira, and immediately, Taylor didn’t know what to do. She just stood there awkwardly, staring at the food on her tray.

“Hey, sit down, why don’t you? You can’t eat standing up,” Scott smiled at her, waving towards the seat. Sighing, Taylor took a seat at the edge of the table, next to Stiles. Stiles turned to Jackson, eyeing him to scoot over. As Taylor looked up, everyone was giving Stiles a knowing look while Stiles rolled his eyes.

“So, Taylor, you recently got here, didn’t you?” Scott asked, placing his elbows on the table and propping his head up on his fists. Nervously, Taylor played with the sleeve of her sweater, looking down at her food.

“Yeah, a month ago,” Stiles spoke up for her. She glanced at him sideways, her heart jumping. She ignored it and looked back down at her food.

“Interesting,” Lydia started, eyeing Stiles suspiciously. Looking like she was snapping herself out of something, she turned back to Taylor. “I haven’t noticed you around,” Lydia wondered, narrowing her eyes at her.

“That’s because she’s not a very social person,” Stiles replied. Taylor turned to glare at him, but he only winked at her.

“Are you just going to speak for me? I’d be more social if I were with my friends back in Colorado,” Taylor mumbled, stabbing her fork into her salad and shoving it in her mouth before she could say something else.

“Hey, no worries! It takes a while to make friends when you move somewhere new,” Scott replied. Taylor shrugged one shoulder, taking another bite of her salad.

“Hey,” Kira started, “we’re all going bowling tonight! How about you join us? It’d be awesome to get to know you a little better, other than the few times we’ve worked together?”

Taylor immediately shook her head. “No, I don’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Jackson finally spoke up, voice blunt. “Besides, you look like you could beat Stilinski at bowling.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m a great bowler,” Stiles frowned, angrily taking a bite of his chicken fingers.

“Whatever man, I’m out of here. See you losers tonight.” Jackson stood up, Danny following.

“I’m going too,” Erica spoke, standing up along with Boyd and Isaac. She didn’t specify where she was going exactly, and Taylor didn’t think she wanted to know either. Soon enough, the whole table was cleared, except for Stiles and Scott.

“So, what do you think? You’ll join us tonight?” Scott asked anxiously.

“Why not,” Taylor mumbled, throwing her now-empty plate in the garbage. Scott gave her a lopsided smile, before grabbing his book bag.

“Awesome! Well I’m off to class. I’ll see you guys later!” He rushed off quickly, making Taylor frown. What was it with everyone leaving? Wasn’t she invited to sit with them in the first place?

“Well, I guess I’m off too,” Taylor spoke, standing. Stiles stood up with her, a small smile on his face.

“I’ll walk you to your next period,” he suggested. Reluctantly, she let Stiles follow her. He tried to make small conversation, and Taylor tried to reply as best as she could. She wanted to try and make friends, she really did, but something about this… this town, and this school, and the _students_ , was rubbing her the wrong way. She didn’t know what it was, and she couldn’t figure it _out_ , but there was something. There was something about everyone around her, and she couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Hey, did you need a ride? For tonight?” Stiles asked Taylor when they arrived in front of her fourth period classroom.

“I, uh… sure. I guess. Why not.”

“Awesome,” he smiled, starting to walk away. “I’ll see you later.”

Nodding, she walked into the classroom, her heart swelling. Maybe she was finally making friends.

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

It was only when he got to class that Stiles had realized that he hadn’t asked Taylor where she lived. So when he finally arrived to last period, which was Chemistry, he took a seat right next to her.

“Do you have a phone?” he asked her, getting her attention. She looked up at him, a single arched eyebrow raised.

“Yes…”

“Give it to me.” She raised both her eyebrows at Stiles’ response, before Stiles realized what he had said.

“Shit, no, I mean, hand it over so I can put my number in it. That way you can text me where you live.”

“Uh, right. For the bowling thing,” she questioned, making it sound more like a statement. Stiles grinned, Derek immediately coming to mind. She was so much like him.

“Yeah. Hey, you wouldn’t know a Derek Hale, would you?” Stiles asked.

“No,” she mumbled, handing him her phone. He started putting his number in her phone when she frowned at him. “Does Lydia know a Derek?”

“Yeah,” Stiles frowned, handing back her phone. “Why?”

“She said I remind her of him. Whoever he is.”

“You remind me of him too,” Stiles muttered, narrowing his eyes at her. She didn’t look like him, but there was something about her. She had a vibe that _screamed_ the Hales. Shrugging, Taylor turned back to the front of the class.

“Let’s try not to land ourselves in detention today, shall we,” Taylor concluded, ending the conversation. Stiles chuckled, turning to face Mr. Harris.

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

“Scott, it wasn’t just me, Lydia thought it too!” Stiles yelled at Scott on the phone that night, as he was getting ready to pick up Taylor.

“I get it, but honestly, if she was related to Derek, wouldn’t we have known about this before? Derek would’ve told us about some relatives that may be werewolves.”

“Maybe he didn’t know either! Scott, I’m _telling_ you man, there’s something about her.”

“I smelled her clearly at lunch, dude. She doesn’t smell like werewolf.”

“I don’t understand how that’s possible,” Stiles mumbled, grabbing his coat with his empty hand. He slipped it on quickly, phone pressed against his shoulder and cheek.

“Did she tell you if she’s bowled recently?” Scott asked.

“No, but I can ask, why?”

“Maybe if she claims she hasn’t done it in a long time, but is really good at it, then there’s something wrong.

Stiles chuckled, unconvinced. “Scott, you still sucked at bowling even when you _had_ your werewolf powers and were aware of them. If she does have some, we won’t be able to tell by her bowling.”

Stiles groaned, shoving his wallet in his coat pocket. “Hey man, we’ll see. We’ll figure something out,” Scott spoke into the phone.

“Hopefully. This is driving me insane. I look like a maniac, even though I know for a fact that she’s a werewolf. I just know it, dude.”

“We’ll see in a bit,” Scott spoke, before hanging up the phone. Sighing, Stiles shoved his phone into his pocket, rushing down the stairs. He grabbed the house keys, and left a note from his dad in case he got back from his shift at the station earlier than usual. He locked the door behind him, before jumping in his Jeep, turning the ignition and pulling out of his house. The road to Taylor’s house was short; turns out she only lived a few blocks away from him. When Stiles pulled up, she was already waiting on her porch. Stiles quickly got out of the car, going around to open the door for her.

“Hey!” he smiled. She gave him a shy smile, before getting into the car. Stiles went around, back to the driver’s seat, and pulled out of her driveway.

“So,” he started. “How long has it been since you’ve bowled?”


	3. come bowling, they said. it'll be fun, they said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up that chapters are released every saturday (usually. sorry i'm late)  
> All mistakes are mine.  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! (:

“Hey, mom, before I go, do you happen to know a Derek Hale? Or any Hale?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“Oh. Okay.”

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

“So,” Stiles echoed. “How long has it been since you’ve bowled?”

Taylor shrugged a single shoulder, playing with the end of her fishtail braid. It fell down her right shoulder, right over her green flannel and the Star Wars shirt she wore under it. Her dark skinny jeans hugged her legs firmly, and her denim Vans scratched at her socks.

“I don’t think I’ve bowled in a good couple of years,” she muttered. Stiles nodded, a suspicious look on his face. Then, he grinned.

“I guess that means I’ll be able to kick your ass,” he spoke, voice laced with confidence.

“You wish,” Taylor coughed, the smallest hint of a smile on her face.

“She smiles! Whoop! I, Stiles Stilinski, have made Taylor Frisinger smile. My life is accomplished.”

“Stop it,” she giggled, covering her mouth with her palm. She was unable to keep a stern façade with him; in just the few days that she had conversed with him, it made her feel lighter. It made her feel like she was finally making friends.

He glanced at her attire, a large smile spreading on his face. “Love the shirt,” he winked. Taylor glanced down at her attire, before looking at Stiles’ and realizing that he, too, was sporting a green plaid shirt. Rolling her eyes, she leaned uttered a weak “thank you” before placing her head on the window of Stiles’ car. She whipped out her phone from her pocket, quickly scrolling through her messages to see if she had received any news from her friends back in Colorado, and groaned when she realized she had nothing. The only text she had gotten was from her internet friend, who she had texted earlier to let her know about how she was finally making friends. Other than that, she had no notifications.

Sighing, she shoved her phone back in her pocket and watched out the window, observing the small town of Beacon Hills. The short buildings whirred past her, the lights from the windows illuminating the streets below her. Teenagers walked through the town, faces showing different emotions. She looked up at the sky, the stars twinkling in the obscurity of the atmosphere. The moon was full and bright, and for some reason, her skin itched to be free, and wild. She didn’t know what it was, and she didn’t want to figure it out, she just knew that she had adrenaline pumping through her veins and she didn’t know how to stop it.

Soon enough, she heard the door to her left open, and that’s when she realized the car had stopped and Stiles was walking around the Jeep to open the door for her. She stepped out graciously, and held on to the elbow Stiles offered. As they walked in, Taylor realized that the rest of the group was already there, and had already set up their alleys.

“Stiles! Taylor! You guys made it!” Lydia exclaimed, walking towards them.

“Yeah, hand in hand and matching, too,” Erica mumbled, nudging Boyd. Taylor didn’t know how she had been able to hear Erica, since she was so far away, but she heard it, and immediately, she dropped her hand to her side, looking anywhere but at the group.

“Let’s go, everything’s set up already!” Lydia grabbed both their hands, dragging them towards the rest of the group.

One group was the girls; Kira, Allison, Lydia, Erica, then Taylor, while on the other alley, there was Isaac, Scott, Jackson, Boyd and Stiles. Taylor couldn’t help the roll of her eyes when she realized she had purposely been put to go against Stiles.

She quietly sat next to Stiles while Kira went against Isaac. He was in a deep conversation with Scott, that she didn’t fully understand, so she ended up only pulling out her phone again, seeing if she had any more texts from Colorado. She sighed sadly when she realized she didn’t, and then jumped slightly when her phone was pulled from her hands.

“It’s our turn,” Stiles chuckled, grabbing the sleeve of her flannel and pulling her towards the alley. She grabbed a large orange ball, slipping her fingers through the holes to get familiar with the feeling. Craning her neck, she glanced over at Stiles right in time to see him land a spare. He smiled giddily, turning to Taylor and crossing his arms over his chest. Taylor took in a deep breath, before swinging the ball with all of her force, and aiming it perfectly in the center. It rolled swiftly, hitting the first pin perfectly so that all the pins behind it fell down like dominoes.

She had just done a strike. She hadn’t bowled in four years, and she had a strike.

“Yes! Taylor, you go girl! The girls are going to take the win today,” Allison bragged in Scott’s face, while Kira laughed loudly. Taylor managed a small smile on her face as she turned to Stiles. He looked back at her, face determined.

“Oh, it’s on,” he pointed a finger at her. Taylor finally let off a full grin, shaking her head.

“We’ll see,” she smirked, before walking back to her seat and starting a conversation with Lydia and Allison. Through the night, she could see Stiles take cautionary glances at her, and a few times, he was mumbling a few words to Scott. She was curious to know what they were talking about, but she droned it out, instead paying attention only to the words coming out of Lydia’s mouth.

She had already done three strikes and one spare, and the whole group was halfway through the game, when all the lights went out. Screams echoed throughout the room as people rushed for the door or tried to hold on to their friends, and Taylor immediately grabbed the arm that was closest to her. It ended up being Lydia, who seemed to be incredibly calm, despite the situation.

“What’s going on,” Lydia spoke harshly.

“I don’t know,” Scott responded. Taylor had no idea where he was because of how dark the room was, but she could hear him clearly. Suddenly, the front doors opened swiftly, and the doors opened swiftly and a dark silhouette stood. She looked around, trying to spot her friends, when she was met with a pair of red eyes. She gasped loudly, her grip loosening on Lydia’s arm. Lydia grabbed her arm, her voice steady.

“It’s Scott. The red eyes belong to Sco—”

Suddenly, Taylor had lost her grip on Lydia’s arm as Lydia went flying. Taylor screamed, trying to get a hold of someone, anyone. Soon, there were not only red eyes, but three pairs of golden eyes showing up in the obscurity, and one fiery red one. She didn’t know what to do, and she didn’t understand what was happening, but she knew she had to find Stiles.

“Stiles!” she screamed as loud as she could, arms out, trying to catch a grip on someone’s arm. “Stiles!”

“Taylor!” she felt long, slender fingers grip her arm, and she knew it was him. Suddenly, it felt like all the lights were back on, except they weren’t. She knew they weren’t, but for some reason, she could clearly see the group in front of her. They all stared at Taylor, their expressions alarmed. Taylor only tightened her grip on Stiles’ arm, her body sliding behind him as he stood in front of her to protect her. Before she knew it, a loud howl echoed through the room, making her immediately put her hands to her ears. It was so loud, and so… so bitter, that her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground. She felt the impact of her head on the hard seats, and she faintly heard Stiles’ voice yelling her name before she slipped into unconsciousness.

* - * ~ * - * ~ *

“Scott!” Stiles yelled. “I need help here! Both Taylor and Lydia are down!”

“Kira’s got Lydia,” Scott muttered, helping Stiles get Taylor up. Once they had managed to get her steady, Stiles swopped an arm under her legs, holding her up in his arms.

“We need to get out of here… Scott, what even is that?!” Stiles echoed as people screamed around him. The silhouette had disappeared from the door, and, like nothing had happened, all the lights came back on. The music was once more echoing through the building, the lights and the TVs showing animation. Stiles looked around, making sure everyone was alright. Lydia had a small gash on her forehead, but she was steady and was able to stand alone. The werewolves were fine, and Kira was okay. Allison was okay. The only one hurt was Taylor. In that moment, Stiles wanted to make sure that she was safe.

Scott made sure everyone else was okay, and kindly asked the bowling arena owners to shut down the building due to the incident. People outside their group left without a scratch, and the owners already started shutting down the machines. Stiles turned to Scott, letting him know that he was bringing Taylor home. Without an answer, he headed towards his car, placing her delicately in the back. Her skin was cold, and she was shivering, so Stiles took his jacket that sat in the trunk of his car and placed it on her shoulders, making sure to cover most of her body. He was about to get in the driver’s seat when he saw the pack stepping out of the building, most of them stumbling in exhaustion. They had all learned to stay in control on full moons, but this one in particular had drained out all of their energy. Stiles wondered if there was an eclipse on its way.

Scott walked straight for him, worry covering his features.

“Have any idea what that thing in there was?” Stiles asked Scott. He only got a shake of head as a response.

“I have no idea, but I do know that _that_ was not a werewolf.”

Stiles nodded, opening the door to the Jeep and stepping inside, closing the door behind him. He turned the ignition, the car roaring to life. When Scott knocked on the window, Stiles pulled it down, a single eyebrow raised.

“You saw it too, didn’t you? You saw what happened to Taylor in there?”

Stiles’ eyes immediately widened in recognition. He was completely blinded by the fact that Taylor was hurt to even realize that something else, something unusual and _important_ had happened.

“Yeah, I saw it.”

“I saw it too,” a voice said behind Scott. When they both turned, they saw that Allison was standing there, worry lacing her features.

“Taylor’s eyes,” she mumbled. “They were _purple_.”


	4. werewolves and foxes and... purple eyes? oh my

“Mom, do colour-changing eye contacts exist?”

“Taylor, have you gone out of your mind?”

“Nope! I’m 100% fine! Forget I said anything. See you later!”

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

Taylor made sure to keep her head down as she headed to her locker. For the first time since she got here, most eyes in the hallway were on her. The Band-Aid on her forehead could’ve been the case, but it also seemed like the bowling incident had already spread through the school, and everyone suddenly knew who she was. She didn’t want to be pitied; it was only a small gash on her forehead after all, and it wasn’t painful. She just wanted people to stop staring at her.

It’s only when Stiles’ voice snapped her out of her daydream that she realized she was staring blankly at the inside of her locker.

“Stiles, Jesus Christ,” Taylor gasped, grabbing her books quickly and slamming her locker shut. “Warn a girl, sometime, would you?”

“You’re okay!” he exclaimed, but Taylor was in no mood to talk, to him or any of his friends, for that matter. Despite her injury, she remembered what happened at the bowling alley, and she definitely remembered the bright eyes staring back at her. It made her shiver just thinking about it.

“I’m fine, Stiles, now I’d appreciate it if you and your group of friends would stay away from me,” Taylor growled, walking quickly, hoping Stiles wouldn’t follow.

He did.

“Taylor, you saw something that night. Something unusual, something that doesn’t add up, and there’s no way to erase it from your memory. The only people that could possibly help you understand the situation is us, so if you would just listen to me, you’d realize that we’re not a bunch of psychopaths with glowing eyes?”

Taylor stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face Stiles. Worry was etched across his face, but she could see the desperation hiding under it.

“You have no idea how traumatized I was these past few nights, Stiles. Those eyes were in the worst nightmares I’ve ever had in my entire life. Clearly, your group is hiding something, and I want no part of it. Kinda sucks too, that none of you even bothered to make sure I was okay? I could’ve been hurt! Yet none of you seemed to care. Was this some _prank_? Did you guys want me to join your band of _mutants_? It’s not happening, trust me.” With that, Taylor spun on her heel, stalking away. She hoped that had stopped Stiles short, but no, he was still following behind her.

“I went to go see you,” Stiles mumbled, voice filled with disappointment.

“I may have gotten head damage, but my memory is still intact. I don’t remember you ever showing up in my room.”

“I showed up to your house, with Scott and Lydia! Your mom turned us away. The rest of the pa— _group_ , texted you, and you didn’t reply,” Stiles snapped.

“My phone was dead,” she deadpanned.

“For an entire weekend?” Stiles demanded.

“Stiles,” Taylor sighed, exhausted. “I need to get to class, and you’re holding me back. You’re a nice guy, and your friends have been nice to me for this past day, but honestly, there is much more to you people than meets the eye, and I really don’t want any part of it.”

“Did your vision clear up?” Stiles asked, suddenly. Taylor frowned, turning to him.

“What do you mean?”

“At the alley, when all the lights went out. At some point, you could see clearly, couldn’t you? Even though it was pitch black, you felt like everything around you was clear. You could see us; you could see all of us. Couldn’t you?”

Taylor lowered her head, memories of that night rushing back to her. She clearly remembers this moment. She remembers Lydia being swung across the room, and when she looked up, she could see the room as if all the lights were back on. She never understood what happened, but she didn’t want to try and understand either. She didn’t want to know that there could possibly something wrong with her. She just wanted to forget about the situation and move _on_.

“It only happened when I grabbed your arm,” Taylor muttered, before turning around and stalking away, making sure he wasn’t following after her. She didn’t know why she had said what she said, but she felt like that could’ve been something significant. Maybe there was something about Stiles that triggered something inside of her, but she didn’t want to discover what that was. She just wanted to be a regular teenager.

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

It’s hard, however, to be a normal teenager when you’ve got lunatics following your every move and trying hard to get your attention.

Kira tried to talk to her all through Chemistry, but Taylor only did her work. Kira was a really nice girl, and she felt bad, but she couldn’t do it. She remembered Kira’s fiery red eyes, and immediately, she wanted to withdraw from her as far as she could.

She ran into Lydia and Allison on her way to third period. She had a feeling Lydia was hiding something as well, but she was the only one other than Stiles and Allison that didn’t have glow-in-the-dark eyes, so she could say she trusted her a bit more than the others. When both of them started asking her questions about bowling night, that’s when she bolted.

She was unable to bolt at lunch, however.

She made sure to sit down alone, in a table far at the other end of the cafeteria, hoping not to be bothered. Suddenly, multiple trays were placed on her table. When she looked up, she realized Stiles and all of his friends had sat down next to her.

“Oh my God!” Taylor groaned, throwing her arms up in the air. Stiles rolled his eyes, drinking from his water bottle. “Do you people not listen? I want nothing to do with you! You, with your, your red, eyes, that look like they came from hell. I’m not dying today because I decided to befriend a demon,” Taylor accused, a finger pointed to Scott. Scott glanced at Stiles, like if they were having a silent conversation, before looking back at Taylor.

“I’m not a demon,” he spoke. “The red signifies an alpha of a pack.”

Taylor rose a single eyebrow. “A _pack_? Of what? Wolves?”

The whole group went silent. Taylor’s eyes widened.

“You’re telling me you’re all _wolves? Werewolves?_ ”

Erica turned to look at her, eyes wide. “Say it louder, why don’t you.”

“I’m sorry,” Taylor snapped. “It’s hard for me to grasp the fact that I’m sitting with werewolves, because, you know, you guys are freaking _werewolves_. I don’t know what I got myself into, but I want no part of it. I need you people to leave my table, and leave me the hell alone.”

“Taylor, you need to calm down, first of all,” Lydia snapped from across the table. “Second, we mean no harm. We’re not all werewolves. We’re kind of dysfunctional.”

“Yeah,” Taylor scoffed. “I can tell! What are you supposed to be?”

Kira’s eyes widened when she realized she was being questioned. “Uh, I’m a kitsune. I basically have a fox spirit.”

“Foxes!” Taylor yelped, a sarcastic smile on her face. “That’s, that’s great, that’s just, amazing.”

Stiles rolled his eyes before standing and dragging Taylor along with him. “Excuse us,” he said quickly.

When he had her cornered in the far corner of the cafeteria, he turned to her, eyes filled with anger.

“Do you mind not attacking my friends, please and thank you?”

“ _Attacking_? Stiles, your friends are supernatural creatures! They’re barely huma—”

“They’re human,” Stiles growled. Taylor rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and looking away. Stiles suddenly deflated, his shoulders sagging. Taylor felt like this conversation was going nowhere. She was just scared, and confused, and she didn’t know what to think of this whole situation. The only people in the school that had started up a conversation with her, that had _actually tried_ to become her friend, were supernatural creatures. She was conflicted; she honestly didn’t know what the hell to do.

“Look,” he sighed, rubbing a hand to his forehead. “Just hear them out. I know this sounds crazy, and unreal, but it’s real, but you need to hear us out. Alright? Just… five minutes. Then we’ll leave you alone.”

Taylor thought about it. Did she really want to know how these people had become supernatural? Did she want to keep their secret, or did she want to report them?

“Fine. Five minutes,” Taylor groaned. “And then I need you all to leave me alone.”

“As long as you keep the things we tell you, to yourself,” Stiles demanded.

“I don’t care, Stiles,” Taylor mumbled, walking back to the table. She wasn’t planning on talking about it to anyone, ever. She was ready to move on from the whole situation. She wanted nothing to do with it. When she arrived at the table, she sat down, narrowing her eyes. “Okay, I’m all ears.”

“First, we want to hear you, though,” Scott spoke up. Suddenly, the whole group had their eyes on her.

“Hear me say what?”

“Well, before you attack us about how most of us have glow sticks for eyes, how about you explain your eyes, and what exactly _you_ are?” Allison asked. Taylor frowned, rearing back. What the hell was she going on about?

“What are you guys talking about?” Taylor asked, fear creeping up in her chest.

Nothing had her prepared from what came out of Isaac’s mouth.

“The other night, at bowling. Unless we’re mistaken, we’re pretty sure your eyes turned purple.”


	5. out in the wilderness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'ed, so all mistakes are mine. Don't be scared to point out my mistakes!
> 
> Kudos and Comments will forever be appreciated. <3
> 
> Enjoy!

“Mom, is it normal for my eyes to turn purple?”

“Your eyes have turned purple?”

“Well, like, a bit. In the sun.”

“Taylor, your eyes are not anywhere near purple.”

“I know, mom. Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

Taylor couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Were these people insane? They must be insane. Purple? _Where_? When? Her eyes weren’t even close to purple! Where did they come up with such false accusations?

“You people are crazy.”

“Taylor,” Boyd growled, and Taylor was completely taken back because this was the first time Boyd had said anything directed towards her.

“My eyes are not purple,” Taylor frowned, wrapping her arms protectively around her waist.

“We all saw it. It happened, and you can’t deny it,” Isaac piped up, shoving a large cheeseburger in his mouth. Taylor bit her lip, fear rising up in her chest. This was impossible. It made no sense. There was nothing and no one in her family even remotely _close_ to the supernatural, so how was it possible that her eyes had turned _purple_? Even werewolves didn’t have purple eyes! The most of them had golden eyes, and Scott was the only one who had a pair of dark red eyes. Her eyes were purple!

“I literally have no idea what you people are talking about. It makes no sense.”

“We’re as confused as you are!” Stiles exclaimed, shooting his hands up in the air. Taylor sighed, picking up her bag that was sitting on the floor.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do this,” Taylor spoke, standing up. “Clearly, you are all seeing things, or making up lies in your head to _scare_ me, but it’s not working. Unlike you guys, I’m not a _monster_.”

“Hey,” Lydia stood up, fury covering her features.

“Not all monsters do monstrous things,” she uttered slowly, trying to get Taylor to understand. She looked down at the table of students, who walked around, pretending to be human and normal, but at night, they turned into creatures, with _claws_ , and _glowing eyes_. Taylor looked down at her hands, seeing that they were shaking like crazy. She took in a deep breath, letting her body relax.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” Taylor sighed, leaving the cafeteria.

She didn’t talk to Stiles or the rest of the _pack_ for the rest of the day. She couldn’t. She couldn’t even pretend she wasn’t scared of them, because she _was_. She always believed those theories about things such as the supernatural or even something as exaggerated as alien abductions were false. Unless she had visual proof, she couldn’t be told otherwise. But now she did have visual proof, and the thought of that scared her, more than anything.

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

Stiles is not one of these boys that gets called in the middle of the night, so when his phone started buzzing three hours before dusk, he was more than a little nervous. Shakily, he reached for his phone, not bothering to look at the ID before answering the call.

“Look, now’s a really bad time; _seriously_ , it’s 3am, why am I getting a call so ear—”

“Stiles?”

Stiles immediately shot up when he realized it was Taylor’s voice. He never expected a call from her, especially with what had happened at lunch. Clearly, she was a skeptic who didn’t believe in the supernatural, but now she had been exposed to it, and they had to make sure she was willing to keep quiet. Besides, it would give Stiles another excuse to talk to her.

Stiles liked her, he genuinely did. There was something about her, something interesting and suspicious and so different, and Stiles wanted to break through all the walls she had put up and gain her trust.

“Taylor? What are you calling me at 3am for?”

“I—I don’t know where I am. Stiles, I’m, I’m lost, and I don’t know how I got here.” Stiles didn’t hesitate to stand up, grabbing the closest pair of pants and slipping them on, then grabbing a hoodie and shoving it over his head.

“Taylor, stay where you are, I’m coming to pick you up. Where are you? I mean,” Stiles stopped, slapping a palm to his forehead. She didn’t know where she was. That was the whole point.

“Look at your surroundings. What do you see?”

There was a pause, and then a hushed voice. “I see… I see fire. There’s fire. Erupting from a house.”

Stiles immediately felt fear rising up his chest. She was close to a fire, and she wasn’t running? What the hell was she thinking?

He was ready to start yelling at her to leave the location, when she kept going, and suddenly Stiles became more alert. “There’s… there’s a family, inside the house. Multiple people, actually. They’re… werewolves. They’re all burning. Burning, burning, burning. Fire.”

Stiles didn’t understand what was happening. He didn’t know if she was sleepwalking, but he knew he had to go find her. He listened attentively to what she was mumbling.

“There’s a woman. She’s pouring gas. Why is she killing the werewolves? What is she doing?” Stiles grabbed the keys to the Jeep, rushing down the stairs at a quick pace.

“Taylor, you need to figure out where you are,” Stiles growled into the phone, the worry eating away at him.

“Laura!” she suddenly exclaimed, her voice piercing his eardrum. “Laura, stand back!”

Laura?

“Mom, what’s happening… Everything will be okay, Laura. Everything’s okay.”

All the pieces started coming into place. Laura. _Laura. Laura Hale._

Whatever Taylor was, she had to have a connection to the Hales and didn’t know it yet. For now, though, that didn’t matter. He just needed to get to her and get her back to the safety of her home.

“Stay where you are, I’m on my way. Please, don’t get hurt.”

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

When Stiles pulled up in front of the old, burnt, Hale home, he immediately spotted Taylor. She was on her knees in front of the home, her hair shoved up into a bun. She was only wearing a small purple tank top, her legs completely exposed due to her mid-thigh pajama shorts. When Stiles got closer, he put a hand to her shoulder. She was _freezing._

“Taylor,” he mumbled, and then was shot backwards. His head hit a tree trunk, and he felt his vision blur over. Groaning, he stood up, feeling warmth on the back of his head.

When he looked up, he was met with a pair of purple eyes. Taylor was staring back at him, her face void of any emotion.

“Light em’ up, boys,” Taylor mumbled, before falling to the ground, the purple fading from her eyes.

* ~ * - * ~ * - *

Taylor woke up to warm blankets. She didn’t want to leave. She grabbed them, pressing them to her nose and inhaling lightly, taking in the smell. She had never felt that much comfort in her own bed. She felt like she was lying on a bed of grass, the smell of earth and peppermint invading her nostrils. She had never smelled this on her bed before, but she knew she liked it.

That’s when she realized she wasn’t in her own bed.

She shot up quickly, taking in her surroundings. She could see multiple All Time Low posters on the walls, and there was a transparent board, covered with papers and red string. She could see the sun slowly rising, and she glanced at the time. 5:06am. She still had a good two hours to sleep before school, but she needed to figure out where she was first.

That’s when she heard shuffling, and gasped when she noticed someone was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, head hanging to the side.

Stiles.

She was in Stiles’ room, sleeping in Stiles’ bed, while he voluntarily took the chair for the night to make sure she was okay. Taylor could feel her heart swell up. She wasn’t going to lie, that was pretty nice.

How did she end up in Stiles’ room though?

Immediately, she shot up, shoving Stiles’ shoulder. He jumped, tipping over and falling to the ground with a loud thump. He barely had the time to look up at her when she spoke up.

“What am I doing in your room?”

“You called me,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his head. She frowned, completely clueless. She only remembered going to bed, and when she woke up she was in someone else’s room.

“When?”

“Two hours ago. You were… I found you all alone in the Preserve. You were standing in front of an old house, mumbling some nonsense. I… tried to get your attention, but was viciously thrown to a tree. You wouldn’t happen to have telekinetic powers, would you?”

Taylor felt her stomach swoop. She had no recognition of anything that had happened the night before, and she was pretty sure telekinesis was not in her DNA.

“I don’t understand,” she mumbled. Then, she looked back up at Stiles, who had sat back down on his chair, eyeing her carefully.

“You… Scott didn’t imagine it. Your eyes were seriously purple. I don’t know how that’s possible, but you’re not a werewolf. I don’t know what you are, but it’s not a werewolf, because that’s not a trait werewolves have.”

“I’m scared,” Taylor admitted honestly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but if you can figure it out…” she trailed off. She didn’t know what she was asking from him, but she didn’t want to live with this confusion and this fear of hurting herself and others. She needed to know exactly what was wrong with her.

“I know,” he sighed. Then, he looked back up at her. “That’s why after school we’re going to figure this out. We’re going to see Deaton.”


	6. stiles' bedroom and deaton's office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are forever appreciated! (:

“Mom, you didn’t tell me a house caught on fire in the preserve a couple of years ago.”

“That’s because I wasn’t aware that a house caught fire in the preserve.”

“You’re sure about that? I me—… never mind. I’ll see you later.”

* - * ~ * - * ~ *

Taylor groaned when she heard Stiles’ blaring alarm clock echo throughout the room. She shoved her head deeper in his pillow, unwilling to get up and go to school. After the eventful night she’d had, she was in no mood to go to school and pretend everything was okay, especially when she would have to face Stiles’ friends.

She didn’t know who this Deaton man was, other than the fact that he owned the Animal Clinic in the town, and that Scott apparently worked there. She didn’t know why her… _situation_ , would involve him, but she was anxious to find out.

She wanted to remain in her thoughts, when she felt a warm hand against her shoulder. The hand lightly shook her, making her lift her head up from the bed.

“Time to get up,” Stiles grumbled, swinging his head back and forth, probably trying to get rid of a kink in his neck. Taylor groaned, flopping over on her back, immediately blocking her eyes from the sun that came from Stiles’ window.

“Can I stay,” Taylor groaned. Stiles turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

“Was that supposed to be a question? Because it sounded like a statement.”

“Sometimes my questions sound like statements,” Taylor mumbled. “So what.”

Stiles only looked at her intensely, making her self-conscious. In fact, all of Stiles’ friends looked at her like she was an alien. This wasn’t The X-Files.

“Please, can you just bring me home?”

“I have to bring you home anyway,” Stiles spoke as he grabbed his towel from his drawer. “You have to get your school stuff and change.”

Taylor emitted a large groan, no longer motivated to move. She shoved her head back in Stiles’ pillow as Stiles slipped into the bathroom. She lied there, trying to consider whether or not she should go to school or just avoid it all together. She knew Scott and the others would question her, and she was pretty sure Stiles had already told them all what had happened. She didn’t want to admit it, but what if there seriously was something wrong with her, and what if that could endanger her life and the lives of the people around her?

She was stuck in her own thoughts for so long that she hadn’t noticed the time fly until she heard Stiles walk out of the bathroom, towel loosely hung around his waist, droplets falling from his hair and cascading down his neck.

Taylor’s eyes tracked his body as he headed towards his drawer, pulling out a pair of khakis, a plain grey t-shirt and a red and black flannel. He then turned, and Taylor startled when she noticed he was staring straight at her. She quickly averted her eyes to her hands, pretending they were the most interesting thing she had seen in decades. She heard a small chuckle come from Stiles’ mouth, before he headed back into the bathroom. Once the door was shut, she placed both palms to her face, embarrassment rushing through her body. Who even told her to stare at him like that?

When Stiles stepped out of the bathroom, fully dressed, Taylor had already invaded his drawers and found the smallest pair of sweatpants she could find with a hoodie. Stiles quirked an eyebrow, before smirking at her.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable with my clothes.”

Taylor looked up at the sky, her cheeks turning a dark red. “Well, if I slept in your bed, I guess I can wear your clothes too. Sorry for not asking.”

“No worries, make yourself at home,” Stiles chuckled, shoving his towel in his hamper. He then turned to her, crossing his arms. “I’ll take you home.”

Taylor nodded before moving from under the covers. Stiles grabbed his keys from his desk before opening the door to his bedroom, letting her out first.

The ride back to her place was quiet, but comfortable. They didn’t talk much; in fact, they didn’t talk at all. Taylor was too busy thinking about Deaton. She was too scared of what she was going to find out.

“You’re not going to make me take the bus, are you?” Taylor questioned, turning towards Stiles.

“No, no way. Go get ready, I’ll wait for you.”

Taylor nodded, thanking him with a small smile before hopping out of his Jeep. She then turned to him, a small smile on her face. “You’re welcome to come in.”

He did.

* - * ~ * - * ~ *

After Taylor had changed and Stiles had gotten her to the school safely, they were all bombarded by their friends. They had all received Stiles’ text, which read _"_ _D_ _eaton’s after school. All of you need to be there”_ , which caused craziness in the pack.

“Did you figure out what she is?”

“Man, I want purple eyes!”

“What is Deaton going to do about her?”

“Can’t we just send her off to those crazy people Kira had to deal with?”

“I’m sure—”

“Do you guys mind,” Stiles hissed at them, seeing Taylor’s face drop. Scott’s face immediately softened, and he placed a hand on Taylor’s shoulder.

“You’ll be okay,” he told her, before flashing his red eyes at her quickly, and she immediately nodded. That’s what Stiles loved about Scott; he always remained optimistic even when it looked like there was no hope. Somehow, even the people that doubt him the most still manage to listen to him eventually.

“Okay,” Taylor sighed eventually. Everyone nodded, before heading to their first period class. On their way, Stiles grabbed Scott’s arm, pulling him to the side.

“What’s wrong?” Scott asked immediately, eyebrow raised in question but voice filled with worry.

“I think she’s related to the Hales,” Stiles whispered, glancing around to make sure no other pack members were listening in. He wanted Scott to hear it before anyone else.

“Why do you say that?” Scott asked, frowning. Stiles looked around once more before stepping closer to Scott.

“Last night, she called me. It could’ve been 4am, and she was in the Preserve. When I found her, she… was speaking in someone else’s point of view, but… she mentioned Laura. She also said that there was a family inside the house, burning. That a young woman was setting the house on fire. She was standing in front of the Hale house. Do you see where I’m getting at?”

“She must have a relation to the Hales,” Scott mumbled, looking deep in thought. Nodding, he looked back up at Stiles. “Alright. We’re bringing her to Deaton’s tonight. We really need to figure this out. I just, I don’t understand. She’s got purple eyes, if she has purple eyes but she’s related to the Hales then why didn’t Derek have purple eyes as well?”

“I have no idea,” Stiles shrugged, defeated. Suddenly, the bell echoed through the school, signaling the start of first period. Scott clapped his friend on the shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out. I’m glad you took care of her.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t want her to get hurt.”

Scott smirked as he walked backwards. “You sure that’s all?”

“Yes, Scott,” Stiles snapped, mouth a thin line. Scott laughed whole-heartedly before sending Stiles a small wave. Stiles looked up at the sky. _Why did God give him Scott McCall?_

* - * ~ * - * ~ *

“I could feel you shaking behind me,” Scott told Taylor when they hopped off his bike in the parking of the animal clinic. Taylor rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Forgive me, for being scared about the fact that I may be a supernatural creature, that is apparently very rare, and could be related to some werewolf family.”

Scott immediately snapped his head towards her, eyes alert. Taylor rolled her eyes.

“I heard you and Stiles’ conversation this morning. I can’t control, whatever I have, but I do know that I was across the school and I could hear you and Stiles’ conversation clearly.”

Scott looked away, attaching his helmet to the bike. “Yeah. Sorry about that. He was just telling me what had happened last night.”

“I don’t even remember what happened,” Taylor sighed. Scott turned to look at her, worry lacing his features. Taylor hated being looked at that way. She wasn’t a damsel in distress that needed protection.

“I’ll be fine,” Taylor snapped, adverting her eyes from Scott’s face and looking up at the building facing her. Scott patted her back gently, a small smile on his face before leading her inside the building. When they got in, they were welcomed by the rest of the pack, who were hovering around a small metallic table. A dark-skinned man stood at the edge of the table, face void of emotion.

Taylor gulped.

“Uh… hi,” she spoke, waving slightly at the man. He only nodded curtly before walking towards her and leading her towards the table, where he told her to sit. She tried to make herself comfortable, crossing her legs, but she was unable to keep her heartbeat steady. There was nothing that could calm her down, because this was the moment of truth. Either she was going to be told she was a supernatural creature, or she had some weird genetics that caused her reflexes to suddenly get enhanced and for her eyes to change colours whenever they felt like.

“I’ll be running a few tests on you. Mountain ash can injure or repel werewolves, so we’re going to test that, and then I’ll take a look at your eyes.”

Taylor only nodded, fear building up in her chest. She could only hope that the mountain ash would have no effect on her.

He slowly approached her, handing her a glass of water laced with mountain ash.

“You should be feeling pain in the next few seconds.”

“Can I die from this?”

“Not at the moment. I have all the essentials to make sure it doesn’t kill you.”

Taylor nodded slowly, placing the glass against her lips. She took a large breath, her heart racing. She glanced sideways at Stiles, who gave her a nod of reassurance. She nodded back, before tipping the glass, and taking a large gulp of the mountain ash-laced drink.

It was now or never.


	7. the full moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get very interesting this chapter. ;)
> 
> I know not many people are interested in ofc/tw character stories anymore, so I'm very thankful for the few of you that are reading this! It means a lot!
> 
> On to the chapter! This one gets very interesting, so enjoy!
> 
> Also, there are a few things that could be triggering, so I put it in the end notes, if you'd like to see!

“Taylor, did you know there were a bunch of rowans in our backyard?”

“What is that?”

“It’s basically mountain ash. Aren’t you allergic?”

“Not that I know of.”

* - * ~ * - * ~ *

It had been a good two hours, and nothing had happened.

Taylor was still sitting on Deaton’s metal table, unmoving. Most of the group had left, stating that they would be back in a couple of hours to see if there was any progress, but frankly, Taylor wanted to go back home herself. She had never been as impatient to leave a building as she had been in that moment.

It was only her and Stiles in the room; Deaton was in another part of his office. He had his head in his hands, and Taylor could feel how tired he was.

“You can go home, if you want to,” Taylor whispered, fiddling with her hands. He immediately raised his head, shaking his head vigorously.

“No. No, no, I’m staying here with you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Stiles,” Taylor sighed, defeated. “It’s been two hours. Deaton said I would have reacted immediately. Nothing’s happened; clearly I’m not a werewolf.”

Stiles shook his head, looking out the window. “There’s got to be something.”

“If there is, then I don’t know what it is.”

She was hopeless. She was aware that her eyes glowed purple, but nothing else corresponded to a supernatural creature. The mountain ash hadn’t worked; the mistletoe hadn’t worked… nothing had worked. She couldn’t explain what she was.

Stiles excused himself, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. Taylor was trying not to eavesdrop, but it’s like her ears couldn’t help themselves. Somehow, she could even hear Scott through the phone.

“Hey, Scott, look I can’t talk right now, I just want to be with T—”

“Stiles, you need to get out of there right now.”

“What?”

“Have you been looking at your calendar?”

“What, is there something that important on a freaking piece of paper? Scott, I’m staying with her. I get that the mountain ash didn’t do anything, meaning she isn’t a werewolf, but she’s _something_. I’d like to be there for her when we figure it out.”

“Stiles, it’s a _full moon_.”

There’s a beat, and then: “She’s not a werewolf.”

“Exactly.”

“Scott, please elaborate.”

“You said she’s something. Right? She’s something, but we don’t know what that something _is_. Shouldn’t that be a problem? What if her full moon is worse than a werewolf’s?”

“What if it’s _not?_ ”

Taylor frowned, glad that Stiles was sticking up for her, but processing what Scott was saying. She knew the story about how full moons triggered change in werewolves that had no control, but she didn’t know that actually happened. She was extremely worried about what would happen to her. She glanced outside the window and could see the full moon beaming through the window, and as if on cue, she could feel an itch under her nails. Her breathing intensified, as if her lungs were on fire, and suddenly pain erupted at the tips of her fingers as her blunt fingernails changed into sharp claws. Her eyes widened, fear blooming in her stomach. What the hell was happening to her?

She felt like her ears were ringing, and beads of sweat started cascading down her forehead. Suddenly, she felt a cold hand against her cheek, making her relax only slightly.

“Taylor? Taylor!” a fuzzy voice echoed in her head, but she couldn’t calm herself enough to identify it.

“Stay away from me,” she grumbled, stepping off the metal table and throwing herself in the corner of the room, hands around her legs as she swung back and forth, trying to control her breathing. Her fingers ached to tear flesh, but her subconscious somehow resisted, because the last thing she wanted was to hurt Deaton, or even worse, Stiles…

_Stiles._

Suddenly, everything became clear. She could hear his voice calling for her, she could feel his hand holding hers tightly, and she could feel his strong gaze on her, trying to calm her down.

Her breathing was still heavy, but she was trying, more than anything, to focus on Stiles’ voice.

“Taylor, just breathe with me, okay? How about we count down from 10. 10, 9, 8…”

She tried, she tried so hard to keep her breathing in control, but she was unable to. She felt her eyes glow as her vision blurred once more, and next thing she knew, she felt lightheaded and pain was radiating throughout her entire body. Slowly, she relaxed, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she slumped to the ground, her breathing steadying and her claws retracting. Stiles was crouched in front of her, a small frown on his face and a hand on her shoulder. When her vision cleared out, she could see how much damage she had made to the room; the metal table was flipped to the side, the window on the door was shattered, the ground was completely scratched up… and yet, the only thing she could focus on was the large gash that ran from Stiles’ shoulder to the center of his chest. Blood was pouring from it profusely, but Stiles didn't seem to care. She slowly reached for his chest, lightly resting her fingers on his chest, fingers shaking, then quickly pulled back when she saw black in her veins.

“You took my pain away,” Stiles mumbled, when he saw the confusion in Taylor’s face. She nodded, while Stiles grabbed her hand and pulled her up, placing the table upright and settling her down on it. He kept a comforting hand on her shoulder as she placed her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands.

“I don’t remember hurting you,” she sighed, voice shaky.

“That’s because you blacked out,” Deaton spoke up from behind Stiles. “It’s when a short term or long term memory creation is impaired, therefore causing a complete inability to recall the past. When you blacked out, you committed actions that you wouldn’t remember, like the table that you flipped or the injury on Stiles’ chest.”

“I don’t know what to do!” Taylor finally broke down, a sob escaping her throat and tears cascading down her face. “I don’t know what I am, I don’t know why this is happening, and I’m hurting the people around me… I can’t do this.”

Stiles immediately wrapped her up in a hug, to which she reciprocated, wrapping her arms around his waist and digging her face in his chest. She listened to Stiles’ heartbeat, letting it soothe her. Slowly, she calmed down, pulling away to wipe her eyes. Stiles ran a hand through his hair, turning back to Deaton.

“Deaton, tell me you've got something. Tell me you’ve figured out what she is.”

Deaton sighed, stepping closer. “I managed to stop her change, but what I had to use is very interesting.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows, signaling for him to continue.

“I had to use silver.”

Stiles frowned, turning to look at Taylor, who only frowned back at him. _Silver_?

“Why silver?”

“That’s the interesting part. Usually, silver doesn’t affect werewolves. I was able to use silver to stop the change, but it hasn’t had the effect that mountain ash has on werewolves, or that mistletoe has on darachs. It’ll weaken her, but she can’t consume it to the point where it’ll kill her. Technically, she’s immune, like Lydia.”

Taylor could smell the anxiety wafting off of Stiles, and the worry from Deaton. She just wanted to understand what was going on.

“Is that a big problem?” Stiles questioned. Deaton bowed his head, before looking back at them.

“In the 1600s, it wouldn’t be. Now, though, it can be a problem.”

“Why is that?” Stiles asked, stepping in front of Taylor, as if to protect her.

“It can be a problem because using silver only weakened supernatural creatures in the 1600s. That would mean that her genes come from a supernatural creature from that period of time, and in Beacon Hills, other than werewolves, there was only one other man that had purple eyes and claws, and was immune to everything except silver. Even then, the silver couldn’t kill him. He was the only invincible supernatural creature, and that hasn’t happened in years, in _decades_.”

Taylor took in a deep breath, trying to process Deaton’s words. “What was his last name?”

“Frisinger.”

Taylor could feel bile in her throat, and immediately she reached for the bucket by the table, gagging and heaving, throwing up whatever she had eaten that day. At least, that’s what she thought, because when she pulled back, all she could see was a bright, shiny substance. _Silver._

She hadn’t realized Stiles was holding her hair back until she felt her hair fall back over her shoulders, and she turned back to Deaton, a hand on her burning forehead as Stiles wrapped a protective arm around her.

“That’s my last name,” Taylor choked out. Deaton’s face seemed to brighten in realization, before he took a step towards her.

“Taylor, do you have any idea how special you are? Do you know who your father is?”

“David, I think. My mom said his name was David.”

Deaton looked at Stiles, silently asking him to leave the room so he could talk to Taylor alone, but his hand only tightened on her shoulder. Taylor couldn’t help but be thankful for him, because she doesn’t know what she would have done in that moment.

“David Frisinger. David Frisinger was one of the longest-living supernatural creatures to date. No one has ever lived as long as that man has. He was one of the first creatures to also inherit purple eyes, which seemed to be a genetic malfunction from his parents, who were Damarus Frisinger and Élias Hale.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “ _Hale_?”

“Correct. When David aged, he refused to take his father’s name, Hale, due to him having left his wife for another woman. When Élias remarried, his wife took the Hale name. Through reproduction, that’s how we got Crystal Hale, who married Edward Whithicker, who birthed Talia and Peter Hale, which then led to Laura, Derek and Cora, respectively.”

“I don’t understand,” Taylor interrupted. “I’m linked to the Hales? My ancestors, basically, were Hales?”

“Your _father_ was a Hale.”

“You’re telling me my father was alive for, what, 4000 years? When did he die? Are werewolves immortal?”

“In some cases,” Deaton spoke. “However, your father was a special case, which meant he could only be killed by receiving a mixture of silver and another unknown ingredient to the eyes. When he was found dead, in 1998, he had his eyes burned out and the smell of silver reeked, but the other ingredient, and the _killer_ remained unknown, even to this day.”

“My father wasn’t a werewolf? He died in '98? That's the year I was born.”

“No. That’s why his eyes weren’t yellow, like a beta’s or an omega’s, or blue, like a beta or omega who has taken the life of an innocent, or even red, like an alpha. No one was able to figure out what happened to Damarus when she gave birth to David, but somehow, he is the first, and until you, was the last, to be born to two werewolf parents with purple eyes and being immune to mountain ash. The full moon, however, still takes effect on them, but they don’t learn control; they need an anchor, or else they will kill anyone and anything. They also inherit the enhanced sight, hearing and smell, the claws and fangs, and being able to withdraw pain. He had almost all the factors of a regular werewolf, but the eyes and the ash said otherwise. All these things made it that he couldn’t exactly be classified _as_ a werewolf. In fact, he was no longer called that. He had a different name.”

“Meaning?”

“David Frisinger was another supernatural creature, one that we called a _bindjii_ ; and from your father's history, we know that what you are is definitely not something to be messed with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets injured by Taylor, and I describe the injury. It's not too bad of a description but it's just a heads-up.
> 
> Also, Taylor vomits at some point, which is described, so that might make some uncomfortable.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are appreciated!


	8. i'll take care of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, and all mistakes are mine. :)
> 
> This chapter is a lil uneventful compared to the chapter before that, but I promise the next one will be a lot more intense! ;)
> 
> Enjoy this filler chapter!

“Have you ever read on ancient mythology and folklore?”

“Taylor, why would I do that?”

“Mom, I’m just wondering, jeez.”

* - * ~ * - * ~ *

Stiles slipped into the passenger seat of his Jeep, Taylor taking the seat next to him. Stiles knew he was rambling, but he felt that he needed to ease the tension after everything that Deaton had told them.

 _Bindjiis._ Stiles didn’t even know that existed. He didn’t know that was a _thing_. Where the hell had they been?

Oh, right. There have only ever been two of them. Taylor’s father, and Taylor herself.

“Okay, I’m going to call Scott once I get us home, give him the most information I can through the phone, clearly Deaton’s going to have to explain it to him himself because even I’m pretty overwhelmed… Anyway don’t worry about it, Taylor. The pack isn’t going to mind you being different. Seriously, this supernatural stuff goes way over our heads. I know everything’s tough because your dad was a bindjii and now he’s dead, and your mom was either aware or unaware to this, and all of this must be, just, odd, and confusing, and you must feel betrayed, and to be honest, I feel you, betrayal has happened to me before… I mean, not on that extent but it was pretty bad. Anyway, I’m rambling. I’m going to bring you home and I—”

“No.” Stiles startled when Taylor finally spoke up, turning to glance at her before looking back at the road, since he was driving.

“What? Taylor I need to—”

“I don’t want to face my mom,” she begged. “Please, Stiles, not tonight, please don’t make me go home, pl—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’ll come at my place,” Stiles cut off, eyes wide as he gripped her hand tightly. She dropped her head on the window, shutting her eyes tightly. Stiles sighed, feeling completely helpless. He just wanted to make her feel better and nothing was working.

“We’re here,” he said eventually, pulling up at his house after complete silence for the remainder of the ride. She slowly blinked, looking up at his house before nodding, unbuckling her seatbelt. He shot out of his seat, slamming his door and going around quickly to open the car door for her before helping her out of the car, knowing how exhausted she was. He led her inside, mumbling little words of encouragement. He just wanted to get her upstairs and on his bed so that she could take a deep breath.

When they stepped into his room, she immediately sat on his bed, crossing her legs and dropping her head into her hands. Stiles rushed next to her, worry lacing his features.

“Hey, don’t cry, please,” Stiles begged, wrapping a single arm around her shoulders. He looked down at her, beckoning her to look at him. When she did, his heart almost broke. Her eyes were glassy with tears, and he could clearly see the pain in her features. He had never felt so useless.

Sighing, he stood up, rummaging through his drawers until he found the sweatpants and sweater he had let Taylor wear that morning. He led her to the bathroom, letting her step in before closing the door so she could have her privacy. When the door was closed, he let out a deep breath, reaching for his phone to call Scott.

* - * ~ * - * ~ *

After Taylor had thrown her hair up in a bun and was fully clothed, she took in her appearance in the mirror, not even bothering to point out her flaws. She was just so exhausted. Everything that she had been told was weighing on her all at once, and she couldn’t help but feel like screaming and sobbing and asking God what she did to deserve this.

_“You’ll need to carry on with your daily life. You’ll go to school, be actual students and work. So far, you don’t have a target on you, but when that moment comes, you need to come back to me.”_

_“What about the silhouette at the bowling alley?” Stiles asked._

_“We don’t know if that was someone after Taylor, one of the pack members, or someone completely uninvolved. If you feel you have a target on your back, you need to report back to me immediately.”_

_Stiles threw a hand up in the air. “Okay, I feel Taylor has a target on her back. Now, what?”_

_Deaton dropped Stiles a look, but he only shrugged in retaliation. “What? I don’t feel that Taylor’s safe, and I think it’s safe to say that something’s going to happen to her!”_

_“I’m aware, Stiles, but as of right now, there is no proof of that, so for the time being, you need to carry on with your lives. Taylor, you need to talk to your mother. I am not aware of whether or not she knew about your father being a bindjii, but I think you should definitely find out. She could possibly tell you more than I could.”_

That’s why instead, she turned her emotions off, face completely void before she stepped out of the bathroom. On sight, she could see Stiles leaning towards his mirror, chest bare as he examined the gash that Taylor had left on his shoulder. He poked at it, face cringing in pain before poking at it again. Upon noticing Taylor step out of the bathroom, he threw her a small smile, groaning in pain. Taylor could already smell it on him, stronger than anything else he felt.

“I’ll definitely need stitches to this,” Stiles sighed, examining the cut once more. Sighing, Taylor stepped forward, walking towards him and placing her palm on top of the cut, knowing stains of blood would appear on her hands, but not caring when she could see her veins darken as she took the pain away from Stiles wound. Her eyes locked into his as his widened, multiple smells coming from him. It was an overwhelming smell that she couldn’t even pinpoint the specific ones. She tried to pretend that it was due to her not having mastered her smells yet, but her heart knew it was because Stiles was letting off emotions that she’s not sure she wanted to know.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, as Taylor walked towards Stiles’ bed, sitting on it cross legged before looking down at her hands as they pulled at the long sleeves of Stiles’ sweater she was sporting. She heard Stiles retreat to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Her eyes were fixed on the wall, and her heart was racing a mile a minute.

What would she ask her mom when she eventually went home? What would Scott and the others think of her when they found out that she wasn’t a normal supernatural creature?

She hadn’t realized she was staring into nothingness until she felt the bed sink below her, and a figure appear in front of her, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Taylor? Hey…” he mumbled, shifting closer to her and grabbing both her hands, coaxing her to look up at him. She felt her bun move on top of her head as she looked up at Stiles, her heart in her stomach.

“We’ll get through this… we’ll be okay, right? The pack will stay with you, try to help you figure this out, hell, _I’ll_ stay with you. Believe me, please…”

Taylor looked into his eyes, silently listening to his heartbeat to see if he was just lying to her to make her feel better.

His heartbeat was steady.

Letting out the breath she was holding, she scooted back until her head leaned against the wall Stiles’ bed was pushed against. He moved with her until he was sitting next to her, legs outstretched as he looked at her from the corner of his eye. Sighing, he grabbed his laptop on his bedside table, opening it and going straight to Netflix once it had turned on. He scrolled through the TV shows, tutting quietly before turning to Taylor.

“What do you want to watch?” he questioned, a single eyebrow raised. She scrolled through the TV shows, eventually ending up on movies. She snorted at the irony, before pointing at a movie.

Stiles cocked an eyebrow, before turning to Taylor. “Teen Wolf? Really?”

She only nodded, shoving her feet under the blankets as Stiles shrugged a single shoulder. “Alright,” he mumbled, before shutting off the lights in his room, also tucking himself in the blankets and letting the light from the computer be the only brightness in the room.

They watched intensely, Stiles letting out a few groans at the imperfections of the movie, and laughing at the comedy. Actual werewolves weren’t as hairy as the movie portrayed, and from Taylor’s own reaction, she was pretty sure people didn’t fall in love with a werewolf when he turned in public. In their generation, they’d crumple in fear and try to run as fast as possible. That’s basically what Taylor had done.

By the time the movie had ended, Stiles had passed out next to her, his loud snores filling the room as Taylor closed the laptop. She placed on the carpet below the bed, before leaning back on the bed and turning towards Stiles. He looked relaxed when he was sleeping; the worried frown he constantly sported had disappeared from his face, his mouth hanging freely, as his chest rose and fell. Taylor smiled slightly before digging her head in his pillow, hoping she would be able to find a peaceful sleep after all the events of the day.


	9. aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty filler chapter so it's not very entertaining but i hope you enjoy anywayyyy!
> 
> The kudos and the comments are hella appreciated yall <3

“You should tell me about dad more often.”

“What? Taylor, why are you asking about your father?”

“I’m just saying, mom. I’d like to know more about him.”

* - * ~ * - * ~ *

Stiles woke to the light breaths on his neck, making him slowly turn his neck to look at what the hell was happening. He almost let out a very embarrassing sound when he saw Taylor next to him, her head lying on his outstretched arm and her arm wrapped around Stiles’ waist.

He also couldn’t help but notice how close they were.

He breathed in deeply, his heart rate spiking up. He couldn’t help looking at her; she looked incredibly peaceful, with her eyes closed and her mouth hung open. Stiles had only just now noticed the freckles dotting her face, only noticing them now that he was very close to her.

He was so into looking at her face that he didn’t notice her eyes flutter open, or stare straight at him like they had just seen a ghost.

When he finally snapped back, he caught Taylor’s stare and suddenly it’s like he was in a trance. He refused to break eye contact, not wanting to make the situation awkward, but he knew that the repercussions of them sleeping like that, curled together, was way too intimate, and he didn’t know what would happen to them—or between them—after this, so he just decided to keep staring at her while he could.

“Hey,” he whispered, the corner of his mouth tugging up.

“Hey,” Taylor replied, biting her lower lip. “What time is it?”

“A little after six,” Stiles groaned, glancing at the alarm clock over Taylor’s head. “Just in time for us to get ready for school.”

“Hmm,” Taylor groaned, wrapping her fist around Stiles’ shirt and digging her face in his chest. Stiles froze, immediately reacting to the physical contact.

He believes Taylor felt his reaction, because she quickly reared back, letting go of the shirt. “Sorry,” she mumbled, but Stiles wanted more than anything to pull her back in, shove his face in her neck and just stay there for hours.

“No worries,” Stiles replied, running a hand through his hair before sitting up and leaning against the wall.

“Do we have to go?” Taylor groaned, grabbing the pillow from behind Stiles’ back and shoving her face in it.

“Yes, we need to talk to the pack and you can’t just skip school for this. Scott is an alpha, and he still goes to school.”

“I can’t skip school for ‘this’? ‘This’ is a big deal, Stiles. I just—nevermind. Just bring me home so I can change,” Taylor mumbled, kicking her feet off the bed and standing up, removing her messed-up bun and shoving it into a ponytail. She slipped on her footwear next and grabbed her clothes from the day before, turning to look at Stiles expectantly.

“Take your shower, and stuff. I’ll be waiting downstairs,” Taylor whispered before reaching for the door, but Stiles leaped up and put a hand to the door before she could leave.

“I’m sorry,” he started, turning her so that she was facing him. “I didn’t mean to say that your situation isn’t important; it is, I swear to you, but it’s just… when Scott became a werewolf he wanted to just give up everything. When Lydia became a banshee, it was the same thing. Deaton said that we need to go on with our daily lives, and that’s what we’re going to try. After school, I swear I’ll take you out for ice cream and we can take a breather and relax so you don’t have to face your mom yet. Alright?”

Taylor looked up at him, her eyes glistening in the sunlight brushing her features through the window, before nodding solemnly.

“Okay, but what do I wear to go to school?”

“Just wear the jeans you had yesterday, I’ll give you a shirt you can wear,” Stiles replied before turning around, searching his drawer for a clean shirt, finding a red flannel and handing it over to Taylor. She sighed, slipping it on easily since it was twice her size, before turning fully and heading downstairs.

Stiles felt like he had just messed everything up before it had even started.

* - * ~ * - * ~ *

Taylor had become so used to being the new girl that when the class was introduced to a new student, she was blown.

“Students, welcome Easton Reyes to our class; please make sure he feels welcome and try to include him in your activity. Here, Easton, take a seat next to… Taylor, Taylor Frisinger over there.”

Taylor’s head snapped up from where she was doodling on her notebook, before lifting a hand in a shy wave. It’s when she payed attention to him that she realized he was pretty cute; he had curly blonde hair that was shaved at the sides like a curly undercut, he had vivid blue eyes that pierced through hers and Taylor could see muscles popping from the long sleeves of the guy’s shirt.

He nodded at her, his mouth tugging up into a grin as he stalked towards her, sitting on the seat next to her.

“Hey,” he spoke, turning to look at her. She looked up at him, nodding back and giving him a thin smile before running her hand through her hair.

“Nice drawing,” he whispered, right before the teacher cut off all conversations. When she looked down, she finally noticed what she was drawing: a girl with vivid, purple eyes and tears streaming down her face.

When the period ended, she ripped the drawing out her book, crumpling it up and shoving it in the recycling bin, the piercing purple eyes she had drawn stuck in her memory.

“Why’d you throw it out?” a voice echoed behind her, before she realized it was the new kid, Easton, and he was walking behind her, seeming to be heading towards the same door she was going to.

“I uh, I don’t know. I didn’t like it,” Taylor nervously laughed, tucking a hair behind her ear.

“I liked it,” he replied, making a dark blush show up on her cheeks. She looked down at the ground, her face heating up, and the fact that she wasn’t looking where she was going nearly made her run into a strong body, if it weren’t for Easton grabbing her arm and pulling her body to his, her back against his front.

“Dude, watch i—Taylor?”

Recognizing the familiar voice, she looked up quickly, her eyes meeting with Stiles’.

“Taylor,” he said, relief filling his voice. His eyes adverted to the guy’s behind her, his orbs narrowing immediately at the sight of the new kid.

“And you are?”

“Easton,” he introduced, holding his hand out to shake. Stiles only looked down at it, giving Easton a tight smile until he put his hand down, awkwardly tucking it back in his pocket. Taylor raised a single eyebrow in shock; what was with Stiles’ mood?

“Nice to meet you,” Stiles replied casually, but Taylor could hear different emotions laced in his voice; she couldn’t pinpoint what he was feeling. An odd smell was coming off him and she couldn’t find the specific emotion.

“What class do you have next?” Taylor asked, stepping away from the boy’s chest and turning towards him.

“Uh,” he mumbled, pulling out a schedule from his book bag. “AP History with Mrs. Morrell.”

“Hey, me too! I’ll show you where to go,” Taylor suggested, pushing Easton forward. “Just give me a second, right?”

She grabbed Stiles’ hand, dragging him towards the nearest corner and leaving Easton in the hall, leaning against a locker and waiting.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Taylor growled, throwing her hands in the air.

“I don’t trust him,” Stiles mumbled, turning his head repeatedly to look at the new boy. Taylor rolled her eyes, shoving him slightly on the shoulder.

“That’s because you don’t trust anyone,” Taylor snapped, crossing her arms. Stiles narrowed his eyes at her, mimicking her moves.

“You just met him, Taylor. He could be a supernatural creature, for all we know.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“We still need to careful though.”

“Why is that? He could be human, Stiles. You know, have you forgotten that people can be human?”

“Yeah well, you could have been human! Instead you turned out to be one of the only two supernatural creatures we’ve never heard of in our lives, and you have a connection to the Hales, people you claim to have never met, and this whole situation is fucked up, so yes, Taylor, I am allowed to be wary, and suspicious, because I didn’t want to be wary and suspicious about you and _look_ what _happened_!”

Taylor reared back, her heart thumping rapidly in her chest. Stiles’ words were true, she couldn’t deny, but hearing them come out of his mouth just hit her hard, and the loudness of his voice took the fight out of her and just replaced it with exhaustion.

“I have to go to class,” Taylor mumbled, shoving past him and heading towards Easton to lead him to their class, ignoring Stiles’ calls. She wasn’t mad at him, and she knew that he cared for her ( _a lot_ ), but at that moment, all of Stiles’ words just made her want to panic.


	10. make it stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're halfway through. Ten chapters to go.
> 
> This is mostly a filler chapter; real drama starts happening in the next one, so stay tuned!
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! Thanks for reading!

“I’ve never known what you father died from.”

“Oh, mom. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I just wish I knew. I’d finally feel like I had closure.”

* - * ~ * - * ~ *

Stiles’ knee jumped up and down all through class. He didn’t know why he had been so bitter towards Taylor, and why he had so rudely dropped something on her that she most likely didn’t want to hear. He wasn’t lying; he truly wished Taylor had been human. He never wanted to drag her into their whole supernatural lives. It was too dangerous for her, and he wanted her to be safe and secure. He didn’t want to have to worry about her.

“Dude, you okay?” Scott had asked him when he walked into second period. Stiles only shrugged one shoulder, plopping down in his seat and fixing his eyes on the teacher, his head jumbling with thoughts.

He wanted to believe that the anger he felt was because of what was happening with Taylor, but he knew that there was something else. There was something he didn’t like about the new kid, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he could be supernatural, it had everything to do with the fact that Taylor had so easily grown accustomed to him, when it had taken her so long to adapt to the pack, and that made Stiles feel—

“I can smell the jealousy on you in huge waves, man,” Scott whispered to him, making Stiles’ head snap to him. Scott had a frown on his face, and Stiles could tell Scott was worried about him.

“I’m not jealous of anything,” Stiles snapped, turning his head back to the front of the class.

“I can tell when you’re lying,” Scott deadpanned, face flat. Stiles took in a deep breath, running his palm across his forehead before crossing his arms.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know it’s about Taylor,” Scott started. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll ask her mys—”

“Boys,” the teacher growled warningly, making them immediately clamp their mouths shut. Stiles could hear Scott mumbling under his breath, but he refused to pay attention.

He was _not_ jealous.

* - * ~ * - * ~ *

Taylor was already waiting outside Stiles’ second period class when their lunch period came through, and she immediately grabbed his arm when he stepped out, dragging him behind her as she headed for the courtyard. Once she stepped outside, she found a secluded area before stopping, turning to face him.

“Look,” Stiles sighed, looking down at his hands. “I’m really sorry for what I said earlier. I was just…”

“You were jealous.”

Stiles head snapped up to look at her, but Taylor wasn’t going to crack. She had been trying to figure out what the chemo-signals were saying the whole time, and after a good thirty minutes of pretending to listen to Easton, she had finally figured it out. It was jealousy.

“I—yeah. I was. I don’t know why.”

“Stiles,” Taylor breathed, running a hand through her hair. “I literally just met Easton. He’s a nice dude, and he’s _new_ , so yes, I’m talking to him. In fact, I’m not really sure why you’re jealous anyway, since we aren’t together, or even dating, so I don’t understand why you—”

“Stop,” Stiles sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I was just worried, alright? Look I have a lot of trouble trusting new students because they could turn into anything. There’s a… a _tree_ , that attracts supernatural creatures—which is an _extremely long_ story—but now we keep getting new students and somehow, they turn out to be supernatural. That’s probably why you were drawn to this town. That’s why I don’t trust the guy; I have no idea whether he was drawn here because his parents just happened to stumble upon Beacon Hills, or if it’s supernatural-related again. Trust me, Taylor, the last thing I wanted was for you to get involved with this supernatural stuff. I just wanted… you. Just you.”

Taylor gulped, her heart racing. She couldn’t decipher the message Stiles was trying to send. She knew he cared about her, and she felt like she could definitely trust him, but what if there was more beneath it? What if there was something else Stiles was feeling… something Taylor wasn’t ready to admit to herself?

“Let’s go find Scott,” Taylor replied, pretending that Stiles’ words weren’t weighing on her.

“We need to tell him about me; we need to tell the whole group.”

Stiles silently nodded next to her before following her as she weaved through the tables in the courtyard, making her way to the cafeteria before stalking straight for the pack. She plopped down on the empty seat next to Erica, Stiles going around the table to take the seat that faced her before she opened her mouth.

“I’m a _bindjii_ ,” Taylor spoke, taking everyone by surprise. Erica nearly choked on her food, Allison’s eyebrows deepened into a frown, Lydia raised a single eyebrow, Isaac and Boyd glanced at each other, Kira bit her lip nervously, but Scott simply leaned in, intrigued.

“I’m… it’s hard to explain. Apparently, my father was the only other _bindjii_ that ever existed. It’s a weird twist to a werewolf, and it’s a very complicated situation, but I’m not a werewolf. However, I’m supernatural.”

“What are we doing? Do you want to join the pack? For what it’s worth, you don’t really need a werewolf bite to be in the McCall Pack. If we can have two humans in the pack, then you’re okay,” Lydia explained.

“I… what? _Pack_?”

“Yeah. An alpha wolf has a pack," Kira finished.

Taylor’s head was spinning. She was actually going to be in a _werewolf_ pack. Werewolves existed. She was a supernatural creature. It seemed like suddenly, everything was hitting her at full-force and she had no idea how to calm herself down, feeling her lungs clench together and her breathing start to stutter.

Before she knew it, she was on the floor, her fingernails dug into the ground, feeling her claws making scratches on the floor. She knew her eyes were purple, and she didn’t know what she would do if she got exposed to the school. Everyone would think she was a _monster_.

The panic didn’t help much, and she felt herself shove a body that was directly in front of her, but her vision was too blurry for her to identify who it was. She didn’t care. She just needed… she didn’t know what she needed. She needed answers. She needed to know why this was happening to _her._

She felt someone pull her up to her feet and lead her to a room that she couldn’t identify, her brain only zeroed in on her breaths and her nails itching to… to…

An excruciating pain spread through her stomach, making her vision clear out as she crumpled to the ground. When she finally let herself focus on her surroundings, she was met by a row of rusty, gray lockers and a familiar face.

“Scott?” Taylor groaned, slowly pushing herself up to her elbows.

“Pain makes you human,” Scott mumbled, helping her sit up. She immediately pushed her back into the lockers, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them.

“You okay?” Scott asked, kneeling in front of her.

“I can’t stay here,” Taylor sighed, feeling her eyes water. “I need to be admitted somewhere, anywhere. I'm crazy. I have a problem. I don’t want to hurt anyone, Scott.”

She couldn’t help the sob that escaped through her mouth, and Scott wrapping his arms around her didn’t help her emotions either. Before she knew it, she was getting tears all over Scott’s shirt and sobs were echoing so loud through the locker room, she was sure anyone outside could hear it.

“It’ll be okay,” Scott sighed, pulling away to make eye contact with her.

“How are you so sure?” Taylor sobbed, dropping her head in her hands. “I’m… I’m not _normal_ , Scott. I’m barely human. I came here, expecting a fresh start and instead it seems that everything that could _possibly_ go wrong is happening to me right now, and I don’t know how to stop it, or control it, Scott. I just, I don’t know what to do, and I’m _scared_ , I’m scared that people will find out about me, and find out about my dad, and think I’m a _monster—_ ”

She was unable to finish her sentence when another voice spoke above her. “You’re not a monster.”

She turned to see the whole pack entering the locker rooms, Stiles immediately rushing next to her. She could see a small amount of blood seeping through Stiles’ shirt, and immediately she realized that Stiles was the person she had shoved when she was freaking out. She shook her head, looking up at the sky.

“I hurt Stiles, _twice_ , without my control,” she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly. “I _am_ a monster.”

“Stop that,” Lydia snapped, coming to stand towards her.

“We’ve all felt that way, but we learn from it,” Erica continued.

“Trust me, you’re far from being a monster,” Kira added.

“You’re not evil, Taylor, and you’re not a monster,” Stiles spoke, looking at her deeply as if he was trying to deliver a message only through his expression. Suddenly, he turned towards Scott, who had stood up and was holding out a hand for her. She grabbed it before standing up, suddenly being eye-level with Scott.

“You’re a supernatural creature,” Scott mumbled. He shut his eyes, and suddenly the red eyes of an alpha reappeared on his face.

“Like me. Like _all_ of us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Taylor. 
> 
> Enjoy!  
> Reviews, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


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